James Beattie

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Be ignorance thy choice, where knowledge leads to woe.

Be ignorance thy choice, where knowledge leads to woe.

Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who read more

Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb,
Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn.

On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.

On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.

Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.

Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.